


Find Me

by Craftybadger1234



Series: Birds of a feather [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry Potter, Don't copy to another site, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Post-Hogwarts, Relationship Problems, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 10:31:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: At seventeen, a soulmark appears on your skin that moves like a compass, pointing the way to your soulmate.The original prompt (buried inside ‘Birds of a Feather’) was a funny/sexy thing about *A* chasing after *B*, and *B* not wanting to be found. In applying it to Harry and Draco, it required a lot of set-up, angst, character growth, and an epilogue. So a short story became a long one. But that’s fine because if the premise is good (and I hope you think the writing is good), who wants a short story when they can have a long one?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I owe this whole story to CleopatraIsMyName, who wanted to hear the story Draco and Harry write in 'Birds of a Feather.' I'm so glad it turned out like you wanted! You are amazing, as always, and I can't thank you enough for correcting my odd little mistakes, and for asking for the story in the first place. I had a blast with it. :) 
> 
> Please don’t take too seriously the mark locations on their bodies. I basically put it wherever it would suit my story best, mainly for dramatic purposes or else for sexy imagery. In the original prompt, there were to be illustrations of the mark on sexy abs and whatever, but I can’t draw for shit and even if someone provided pictures, I wouldn’t know how to embed them in the story so… I hope your imagination is good.

Harry eagerly watched the clock tick down the minutes until midnight. At long last, the moment he’d been waiting for since he joined the magical world and learned of such a thing. His soulmark would be showing up sometime in the next twenty-four hours, now that his seventeenth birthday had finally arrived. He had no way of knowing what time he was born, so he’d just have to subtly check throughout the day. Understandably, sleep eluded him. He didn’t want to miss the moment when the mark flared to life.

But he couldn’t stay awake forever. In the wee hours of the morning, he was ripped from sleep by a searing pain in his elbow. He sat up, shoving his glasses into place and checking the time. 6:22. He sent a mental apology to his mother for making her labor through the night, then lifted his arm to see his mark. He giggled when it slid along his arm, a small black dot about the size of a sickle. 

He wanted to wake Ron, to show off his mark. But Ron had a mark for a while now and wouldn’t be impressed. Standing, Harry lifted his shirt and spun a little circle, just to feel the tingle as the mark moved around his middle and pointed the way to his soulmate.

Tucking himself back into bed, Harry held out his hand so the mark danced across his fingertips. The urge to get dressed and follow the mark to his soulmate nearly overrode every other thought in his head, so it took him a while to realise Ginny wasn’t sleeping in the direction of his mark. Her bedroom was on the floor below them, so the mark shouldn’t be on his fingertips, it should be on the hip pressing into the mattress.

This was going to be awkward.

At his birthday breakfast, he watched as one by one the Weasleys figured out what the mark on his right hand meant to Ginny sitting on his left. More than ever, he wanted to flee the Burrow and seek out the matching mark. But there was a birthday to be had. And a wedding to attend.

He hated himself for thinking it, but he was thankful for the Death Eaters crashing the party so he could escape the sad look in Ginny’s eyes. But he also appreciated the reminder that they were at war, and the time wasn’t right to pursue someone else. There would be time enough to find her later, when things were safer for the both of them.

That night, he snuggled into his sleeping bag in Grimmauld Place with hope the war would end soon and he could find someone to love him.


	2. Ch 1

With a heavy sigh, Harry bunched up his cloak again, trying to find a comfortable resting spot on the rattling train. If he could just sleep three or four solid hours, he would feel so much better. But every click-clack of the train rattled through his entire body. How had Ron and Hermione managed to convince him to come back to school? He won a war, surely he deserved rest and quiet, not essays and dorm life.

Because of his soulmate. Ron pointed out that he stood the best chance of finding her at Hogwarts, since nearly everyone found their soulmate in their seventh year. And didn’t Harry deserve to find her, now that the war was over and he could get on with his life?

But Harry didn’t care anymore. Everything exhausted him. Now that he’d had the mark for over a year, he hardly registered it moving anymore. Although he did absently note it hadn’t moved at all while they wound their way up the track. So Ron had the right of it - she was on the train to Hogwarts.

Harry mentally shrugged and adjusted his cloak-pillow again. Surely she’d find him soon, and save him the trouble of seeking her out.

\--------

“Harry, wake up!” 

With a groan, Harry rolled in his bed, away from the hands shaking him.

“Mate, get up! You said to wake you for the Halloween feast. You’ve got twenty minutes to shower and get dressed, unless you want to go in your pyjamas.”

“Fine,” Harry groaned. “I’m up, I’m up.” He sat up and took a bleary glance around the room at Neville, Seamus, and Dean, all in various states of getting ready for the feast. How could it be time already? He looked at his watch, but the time didn’t mean anything to him. 

Hermione had saved them both seats at the Gryffindor table. Harry hadn’t eaten in the Great Hall in so long, the noise jarred his ears. He should have stayed in his bed, like he had for most meals and at least half of his lessons. For the thousandth time, he considered leaving school and returning to Grimmauld Place so he could catch up on sleep.

But then his mark flashed across his hand as he served a small slice of shepherd’s pie and he remembered his soulmate. He should be searching for her. Marry her and make a life with her. Have children and die young on a different Halloween, like his parents. 

Leaving his room was a mistake. He bid goodbye to his friends and went back to his bed, where there were no expectations to be had. To compound his misery, he pulled out his photo album to look at photos of his parents. They’d been soulmates too, of course, and had such a short time together, not to mention all the people that lost soulmates in the war. And here was Harry, with the chance to spend a lifetime with someone and he was throwing it all away. 

Fuck, he wasn’t really even living. Getting out of bed always seemed like too much trouble. What would his parents think of him? How could he ignore their sacrifice like this? No, it was time to make changes. Time to be part of the world around him. Time to live and find love. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would begin the search for her. He owed it to his parents and the dead to go on living.

\--------

Searching was easier said than done. Going to lessons, eating in the Great Hall - those were simple steps to take towards joining the living again. Surely if he kept himself in the public areas of the school, she would notice and come find him. But he never seemed to run into anyone that had a mark with movements that matched his. 

He tried following his hand, swaying it in front of him like searching out a wall in the dark. But obstacles constantly jumped in his path. Specifically, walls. His mark may be in front of him, but that only meant his soulmate was on the same floor as him, in any number of classrooms. In his dorm, his mark stayed near his feet, but that only meant his soulmate was below him. Of course she was. Everything was below Gryffindor Tower.

After two weeks, he collapsed across Ron’s bed, whining, “I’m pretty sure my soulmate is avoiding me.”

“That bitch,” Ron deadpanned, flipping a page in his magazine.

Hermione, sitting cross legged next to Ron, smacked him on the shoulder. “Have you considered perhaps she doesn’t want to be thrust in your limelight? Maybe she’s waiting for the excitement to die down a bit.”

He was Harry Potter. Defeater of Dark Lords. War Hero. Chosen One. Whatever other tripe people came up with. How could she not want him? Didn’t she want everyone to know that someone so special and famous and amazing belonged to her?

Yeah, all right, so Harry wouldn’t have wanted that either. He wouldn’t even _be_ in the limelight if he could help it. He was still just himself, a regular boy looking for love. Someone of his very own, to spend time with, to kiss a little, and all those other couple-y things he missed from his brief fling with Ginny.

But it would be hopeless if she didn’t want to be found.

In a huff, Harry took to the skies. He burned all his inner rage and depression on a foolhardy flight around the quidditch pitch. His soulmark sailed along his body as he made wide corkscrew curls from sky to ground and back up again. By the end of his flight, his whole body burned with excited yearning, craving the touch of his soulmate to sooth him.

The addictive feeling had him flying nearly everyday, despite the frigid December weather. He flew often because it kept depression from drowning him. Frequently he rested on the Ravenclaw stands, looking out at the snowy path to Hogsmeads and the surrounding forest, trying to forget the things that dragged him down.

Distantly he heard voices coming from the school, perhaps a quidditch team about to practice. It wasn’t an unusual circumstance, he’d come across the teams practicing before. A few quick concealment charms hid him from view and let him relax in solitude. 

Only this time, he couldn’t really relax. His body buzzed with energy, and not the kind leftover from his flight. No, this was his soulmate, moving at a breakneck pace. She was here. Flying. Now.

Harry shot to his feet, whipping around to scan the field. Slytherin. It was Slytherin flying on the field. But, their team consisted of only boys? A more careful look at each player showed Harry this remained true. All boys. The whole team.

Harry’s soulmate was a boy.

Well holy fucking hell.

His mark swirled like mad, too fast to track to a single player, with the way everyone swooped and dived. Harry picked up his broom and flew away, circling the castle so the team wouldn’t see him leaving the pitch.

Harry hid himself in the shower to have a minor freak-out. No wonder ‘she’ didn’t want to be found. ‘She’ was a ‘he’ and probably had all sorts of hang-ups about his soulmate being a boy. 

Yeah, all right, so… next step would be to show him that Harry didn’t care. Because Harry didn’t care, right? His imagination supplied images of him wrapped around another boy, his lips against Harry’s, his hands squeezing Harry’s arse. And yeah, it wasn’t repulsive by any means. In fact, the buzzing energy he’d felt during his flight continued to course through him, burning him from the inside and making him harder than he’d been since before the war.

Should he tell Ron and Hermione? Just so they weren’t shocked when the time came? No, best he left it a secret, to discuss with his boyfriend. As soon as they were boyfriends.

New plan was to stalk the Slytherin quidditch team. If he was honest with himself, it made him more nervous to date a Slytherin than it did a boy. He crossed his fingers and hoped it wasn’t someone too horrible. At the practice he’d seen twelve people in uniform - probably the team and a few reserves, and four hangers-on that were likely eighth years. Narrowing sixteen people down to one would be a simple matter, if he manipulated his mark just so. But he had to work carefully so he didn’t scare the other boy off.

Trouble was, all the Slytherins traveled in large packs, making it difficult to track who set his mark off. Although he cut several of them from the list on the last trip to Hogsmeade of the term when his mark stayed firmly on the side of his body facing the castle. And he cut another two on the ride to London for the Christmas holiday when his mark stayed stable with the sway of the train.

His preoccupation with the puzzle drew the notice of Ron. Of course it did. After spending months in bed, Harry suddenly had a sheaf of parchments with scribbles of Slytherin schedules and random lists of their quidditch team players. Finding a common link between the different groups wasn’t working.

“Is this about your soulmate?” Ron asked halfway through the Christmas holiday.

Harry looked up from his papers and around at the snowy yard around him. He’d been hunched over a jar of blue flames and flipping through his notes again, too distracted to note the time. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“Of course it is,” Ron grinned. “Let me see.”

Harry gripped tighter for just a moment before deciding it was a lost cause. He handed them over to Ron, who joined him on the log bench, and waited for an outburst.

Slowly Ron nodded as he shuffled the parchments. “Slytherin, eh? That’s going to be rough.”

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say about it?” Harry had expected some sort of shock or revulsion or fear or just… something.

“You’ve been eyeing that whole group for weeks now, I’d sort of put two and two together.” Ron handed back the stack of parchment. “It’s Malfoy.”

“What? How do you know?” Harry asked, frantically flipping and looking for evidence.

“Because it’s always Malfoy.”

“No, see, he wasn’t in the group here when my marked slid past with them.”

“Yeah, your notes are wrong. It’s Malfoy.” Ron slapped him on the back and stood. “It’s always Malfoy. Mum has hot chocolate on the hob when you’re ready.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Ron returned to the house.

Harry scanned the parchments, looking for loopholes and worrying. Malfoy would never choose a relationship with Harry. How was he supposed to make a life with _Malfoy_? Yeah, all right, since following the Slytherins around, he’d noted that Malfoy was damn good looking, but they had too many obstacles to overcome. Didn’t they? Surely Ron was mistaken. But his notes were sketchy at best, and offered no comfort. He needed to find concrete data.

Back at school once again, Harry found the tapestry of Hedgewood the Hermit, near the staircase leading from the Dungeons to the ground floor, to be particularly useful for spying. He could hide behind it, pressed tight to the wall so no one could see him, and wait for Slytherins to come by. Mentally he crossed off each quidditch player as they passed without setting his mark off.

And sure enough, his patience paid off. His arms, spread against the wall, registered his mark sliding from his left hand, down his arm, across his chest… and then stopped.

His soulmate stood on the other side of the tapestry. 

For a single moment, they held still, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Then, Harry’s soulmate bolted.

The mark shot back down Harry’s left arm as his soulmate darted towards the Slytherin common room door. But Harry had been prepared for running and shot an _Arresto Momentum_ through the corridor, to slow him down for Harry to tackle.

He sat astride the hips of a familiar form, with familiar blond hair. “Found you,” he whispered.

From below him came a disgruntled, “Well, fuck.”

“Malfoy. Of course it is,” Harry sighed. “Why is my life like this?” He relaxed his thighs as Malfoy wriggled out from under him with a defeated sigh. 

“Because the fates are nasty bitches, Potter, everyone knows that.” Malfoy stood and brushed himself off. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“You - but you - how did I not know?” Harry shook his head, disbelief making his thoughts scatter. “The fire. I pulled you from the fire and you were _right there_. How could I not know?” He stood, feeling the slide of his mark from forehead to chest. As they stood facing each other, the mark fairly sizzled on Harry’s chest, begging him to take that last step forward.

Malfoy shrugged, “Probably you were distracted by the sentient fire trying to eat us.”

Harry cast about desperately for an explanation. “But before… the Manor? You stood right in front of me.” His breath came faster as he struggled to clarify the memory. “There was the hex. From Hermione. My whole body hurt after that. I guess I didn’t notice.” Harry sighed sadly. “Even when we - we fought for the wands…”

“There was a lot of adrenaline and fear going on. I didn’t put it together right away either.”

“But you’ve known… you’ve been avoiding me.” Harry hoped the hurt didn’t show on his face, but really, the whole situation confused the hell out of him and he didn’t know what he wanted the outcome to be. _Malfoy_? They’d been at odds for so long. And yet, this felt right, with the way they’d been drawn together since they first met.

Malfoy’s look turned incredulous. “Of course I have! You think I want everyone knowing about this? This could not get any worse!”

Harry reached out a hand, _needing_ to touch Malfoy’s skin, wanting to see Malfoy’s mark for himself, and feel the energy coursing between them. His mark traveled to his fingertips, straining towards Malfoy.

But Malfoy jerked back. “What are you doing?” He looked around at the empty corridor. “This never happened! All right? No one can know about this!” He shoved hard at Harry and hurried to the common room door. “Lyra,” he mumbled. He cast one last scowl over his shoulder before disappearing into a space where Harry could not follow.

At least not without provisions.

\--------

Harry swirled his Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders and briefly wondered if his dad ever used it to sneak out with his mum, and then decided he didn’t want to think about his mum and dad doing what he was going to do.

He’d been thinking about Malfoy all day. Trying to imagine them together, moving past all the horrible things they’d done to each other. If he could see remorse in Malfoy’s eyes, even just the tiniest bit, Harry was certain he could forgive everything. Even faster if his kisses made Harry’s heart race. Because the more he left the war behind, the more he craved physical intimacy to make him feel alive.

Getting into the Slytherin common room provided no challenge, now that Harry knew the password. Finding the boys dorms, and Malfoy’s room in particular, set Harry back about five minutes. Casting charms to keep the other boys from discovering them took another five. 

It was worth the short delay to hear Malfoy scream in terror when Harry lit his wand up and ripped the curtains back with a grin. “Found you!”

Draco scrambled to sit against the headboard, holding the blanket to his chest. “Potter, you fucking arse! You scared the shit out of me!” His chest heaved erratically and his eyes scanned the room, only calming when he saw the other boys didn’t wake with his yelling. Then he crossed his arms over his bare chest and turned a black stare on Harry. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway? How did you get in here?”

Harry didn’t wait for an invitation that would never come. He climbed into Malfoy’s bed and tossed the bundle of his Cloak onto the foot of the bed, carefully setting his lit wand and glasses on top. “Well, I _was_ going to demand you talk to me, tell me when you found out about us and why you’ve been hiding from me…” His gaze slid down Malfoy’s form. “But I’ve decided to kiss you instead.”

Malfoy spluttered in disbelief, “You can’t be serious! We can’t just - not now!” He pulled his knees up and held his hands out to ward Harry off. The black mark on his palm sent a hot bolt of arousal through Harry.

Harry grabbed Malfoy’s ankles and pulled them down the bed, inadvertently dragging the blanket down Malfoy’s body as well. “Have you ever kissed a boy? Because I haven’t and I’ve been thinking about little else for ages.” His mouth watered, seeing more and more of Malfoy’s skin exposed.

“Stop it right now!” Malfoy hissed, grabbing for the blanket before Harry could discover if Malfoy slept naked or not. Again, Malfoy looked around the room but the curtains on the other beds remained closed and still.

Harry crawled up the bed, over Malfoy’s covered legs until he straddled his thighs. Their shared heat warmed Harry, and with each passing second, his need for Malfoy’s skin doubled. Gripping the headboard on either side of Malfoy’s head, Harry leaned in close, “Are you sure you don’t want even one kiss?”

He smothered a groan at watching Malfoy lick his own lips. Grey eyes flicked down to Harry’s mouth. Harry hovered there, waiting for Malfoy to please, for the love of fucking Merlin, close the distance between them.

“Fucking _fine_ ,” Malfoy growled and pulled Harry in for a kiss. His groan reverberated through Harry, setting his blood on fire.

He cupped Malfoy’s jaw and ran his thumbs over the sharp cheekbones. Malfoy’s hands pushed Harry’s shirt up and ran hot trails over his back. His moans mixed with Malfoy’s as the kiss deepened. His hard cock strained against his pyjamas, and he thought he might die if Malfoy didn’t touch it soon. Or he might die if he did and that intense heat focused on such a sensitive area.

“Have you done this before?” Harry asked. “With a boy. What do we do?” He only had vague ideas, not thinking the finer points through enough. 

“We’re not doing anything,” Malfoy gasped as Harry bit the soft flesh of his neck. “Nothing at all. This isn’t happening.” He tugged Harry’s shirt up. “Take this off.”

Harry yanked the shirt off and tossed it to the corner of the bed with his Cloak. He hissed as Malfoy’s hands ran up his body, pinching both his nipples at once before coasting back down and around his waist to squeeze his arse.

“These too. Take these off.”

Without hesitation, Harry stood on the mattress and pulled his pyjama bottoms off. Malfoy took the opportunity to kick off his covers and holy fucking hell, he _did_ sleep naked. Harry landed with a plop in his lap, loudly moaning his pleasure at the skin on skin contact in so many points. Malfoy nibbled and licked along his collarbone, up his neck, and claimed his mouth for another hot kiss.

“This is mad,” Malfoy whispered, rolling them so Harry was pressed into the mattress. “Utterly mad. You can’t possibly want this.”

“I can assure you, I couldn’t possibly want it more.” Harry spread his legs so Malfoy could settle between them. He arched his back, knocking his hips into Malfoy, and when that wasn’t enough, grasped his arse to press them more tightly together. “Yes… fuck, that’s so good.” The heat built up inside him at an alarming rate, swelling higher and faster with each second that Malfoy moved against him. “I can’t even remember the last time… fuck, I think I’m going to come…” The words were no sooner out of his mouth when he erupted in hot spurts between them. He inhaled sharply, rocking his hips against Malfoy as wave after wave of heat coursed through him.

What the ever-loving fuck? That had to have been less than five minutes but Harry was too blissed out to care. Malfoy sat up across his thighs and pumped at his cock a few times before he, too, came with a soft groan. He sighed at the ceiling, his chest still heaving. Although Harry felt sleepy and sated, he couldn’t stop running his hands along Malfoy’s thighs and hips. He sat up and nuzzled Malfoy’s neck and tried to cradle him close.

Malfoy leaned away from Harry. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know. But that was over before it started and I want more.” The feel of Malfoy’s skin beneath his fingertips was already making Harry’s blood sing. Was it always like this between soulmates? No wonder they held hands all the time. Harry would never let go if he had warmth pulsing through his body from the matched marks on their hands. “So have you?” Harry asked. “Done this before?” Some part of him hoped Malfoy answered no, although an equal part of him acknowledged they could move things along faster if Malfoy answered yes.

“You have to leave.” Malfoy’s words were clipped, but he ruined the effect with a small moan as he slipped from Harry’s grip. He pulled a dressing gown from somewhere to the left of the bed. He grimaced down at his sticky body and picked up Harry’s wand to cast cleaning charms on them both.

It made Harry feel self-conscious about being naked so he thrust his legs into his tangled pyjamas, not even commenting on Malfoy using his wand. “So what happens now? Can we go to Hogsmeade together? We should - we need to talk about things?”

Malfoy crossed his arms with a sullen pout. “I’m not interested in talking to you. This never happened and it won’t happen again.”

With the way Malfoy knelt on the bed, Harry knew his mark had moved to his knee, hidden behind his dressing gown. Harry ran a light finger over it and kissed Malfoy lightly on the lips. Malfoy’s fingers grazed Harry’s neck, then down his chest. “Just go,” Malfoy whispered against his lips. “Please just go.”

The trip back to Gryffindor tower stretched on forever, cold and lonely. The energetic buzzing from his time in Malfoy’s bed began to fade, and Harry knew he would do anything to get it back. He curled up in his bed and planned for tomorrow.

\--------

Harry attended most of his lessons the following week, knowing he shared three classes with Draco. Some of the lessons confused him, since he’d missed most of his classes last term, but he knew enough to carry on. On Monday, everyone stared when he paired himself with Draco. Ron especially smirked and rolled his eyes. On Tuesday, he got a few sidelong glances. But by Thursday, no one even batted an eye. That didn’t stop Draco from trying to avoid him again.

Harry followed his mark through the castle, cursing when stone walls forced him to detour. Although the search was easier now that he knew who he searched for, it still gave him difficulties. He groaned at the wall in front of him. This would go a lot faster if he knew exactly _where_ Draco hid himself, he thought with an eye roll. Why didn’t the git want to be found? As his mark drew him to the library, Harry donned his Invisibility Cloak. If Draco didn’t want people to see them together, Harry would respect that. But they were soulmates and Harry wasn’t going to let Draco keep them apart.

Draco sat at a table with Zabini, Nott, and Parkinson. Nott made a joke about one of the illustrations in his book, and everyone laughed. Harry warmed, seeing that smile on Draco’s face. He wanted that smile directed at him. Standing like a creepy stalker under his Cloak, he pondered his options. How could he get Draco’s attention and get him alone? While he dithered, Draco stood and said, “I’ll see if the other book is better.”

What luck! Harry followed Draco through the stacks. He saw Draco’s back stiffen and then slump in defeat. Then he wound deeper into the stacks until Harry thought they might be lost. 

Draco halted suddenly in a secluded area and turned around, “I know you’re there.”

“Draco,” Harry said pleasantly as he took off his Cloak and dropped it to the floor. “Looking good today.” He crowded Draco close to the shelves. Fuck, he loved the way his lips tingled as they skimmed Draco’s jaw.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Draco whispered, tilting his head back as Harry kissed his neck. “I don’t want this,” he growled, cupping Harry’s growing erection through his clothes.

“I don’t know if you’re aware,” Harry said between kisses along Draco’s collarbone, “but you are sending mixed signals like mad.”

Draco’s hands gripped hard at Harry’s hips and ground their bodies together. He growled into Harry’s mouth, claiming it in a fierce kiss that made Harry want to fly. “We can’t,” Draco whined. He tugged at Harry’s clothes until he could get his hand inside Harry’s pants. It was a tight fit, but Harry wasn’t going to complain. “This is impossible. They hate me. Everyone hates me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Harry said, closing his eyes and savouring the feel of a warm hand on his cock.

“No,” Draco groaned. He pulled his hand out of Harry’s trousers and pushed Harry away. Wiping his mouth angrily, he glared at Harry. “We can’t do this. Not here, not now.” Then, seeing the look on Harry’s face, he said, “Not ever. They hate me and they’ll hate me more when they think I’ve corrupted you.”

Harry reached for Draco but Draco shouldered past him angrily. “Stay away from me, Potter.”

But he ruined the effect by staring longingly at Harry before turning down the main aisle.

Harry felt certain no one would care who he took up with. But if Draco needed reassurance, then Harry would provide it. During the following week, Harry attended all his lessons and paired himself with a Slytherin whenever he could. 

On Tuesday, he helped Theo Nott prune pots of purple flowered plants in Herbology. There were many curious glances, but everyone had their own work to do. He learned Nott loved Charms and hoped to go into Charms development one day. 

On Friday, he helped Pansy Parkinson prepare nettles for the glumbumble hives in Care of Magical Creatures. Some people looked askance, but mostly they took care not to damage the nettles or anger the glumbumbles. Harry learned Parkinson hated school and only came back because the alternative was worse. She stammered her way through an apology that seemed motivated more by fear than genuine remorse, but Harry was willing to forgive after everything that had happened. 

The following week, he brewed Potions for the Infirmary with Blaise Zabini and got a few understanding smirks, since apparently Zabini would fuck anyone that stayed still long enough and nearly everyone had at least snogged him. Harry avoided a subtle groping of his arse and realised where Draco may have gotten his experience from. Point in Zabini’s favor, he only asked Harry once for a tumble and then respected the space between them.

So the following Potions class, when Harry paired with Draco, no one even looked twice. That night, he snuck back into Slytherin and woke Draco with a soft caress over his hip and ribs.

“Mm, Harry…” Draco moaned sleepily. Then his eyes darted open and he said more clearly, “Potter, what are you doing here?”

“They don’t care,” Harry whispered between kisses along Draco’s jaw. “They don’t care if I’m hanging out with Slytherins.” He ran his hand down Draco’s body to his cock, already hardening with each caress of Harry’s hand.

“Of course they care… they’re -” 

Harry cut off Draco’s words with a kiss. He rocked their bodies together and moaned when Draco’s hand tangled in his hair. 

“You owe me,” Harry whispered. “After leaving me wanting in the library.”

Draco gave a broken moan and kissed Harry harder. He shoved at clothes and blankets, but was too sleepy to make any useful progress towards nakedness. Harry pulled away to strip off his clothes, and decided next time he would strip before waking Draco. 

He giggled when Draco’s fingers tickled his torso. “You have to press harder.”

“Oh I can press harder,” Draco said, his voice a deep gravel that made Harry shiver with want. Draco rolled them so he could cover Harry. His mouth claimed another kiss, while his hips rolled against Harry. “Wait, we need…” He reached across Harry to his bedside table, and held up a jar of lube triumphantly. A large dollop of cold slick landed on Harry. Draco tossed the jar aside and stroked rapidly at Harry. Shifting his hips, he took hold of both their cocks, stroking them together at a slower pace.

The feeling was absolutely surreal. Harry wanted to look, to see what his cock looked like pressed so tight to Draco’s, but he also didn’t want to surrender the feeling of Draco’s body pressed against his. Another time… 

Harry pressed his thigh against Draco’s hip, trying to draw him even closer. “Draco… you feel so good. Go faster…”

“Yes… yes… “ Draco dropped his forehead to Harry’s, his hot breath mingling with Harry’s on every exhale. Their bodies were pressed tightly together but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough until Harry could sink completely into Draco, melding them together permanently.

“Oh fuck, Draco… I’m almost… yes…” Harry panted and rocked his hips up harder. Draco’s movements became frantic until finally he thrust erratically with a heavy groan. Harry could feel Draco pulsing against him, with as tightly as Draco held their cocks together. The ripples sent Harry careening over the edge, his come joining Draco’s on his belly.

Draco sighed heavily and slid to Harry’s side, panting against Harry’s temple. Harry snuggled close, his eyes drifting shut to relish the feel of Draco’s fingers running through his hair. He wished he dared spend the whole night. The walk back to Gryffindor took ages and the late hour made him walking dead the next day.

“Why are you here?” Draco said quietly. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Harry sat up and began pulling on his pyjamas, recognising the dismissal in Draco’s tone. It _was_ getting late…

“No, it isn’t.” He wrapped himself in his dressing gown. “This will never work between us.”

Harry shrugged as he pulled his shirt on. “Seems to be working all right. One step at a time… love is worth the wait, isn’t it?”

He almost laughed at the incredulous bulging of Draco’s eyes. “You can _not_ be serious! There’s no way you can love me!’

“Well no, not yet…” Harry reached out to caress down Draco’s cheek, then tapped his nose playfully just to see his face scrunch up. “But I’ve waited a lifetime for love. Real love, not the tripe fed to me by Dumbledore about my mother’s sacrifice.” He stared down at his hand, at the mark on his fingertips. “Finding my soulmate dragged me out of depression and now it’s helping me live. I want all of it. I _deserve_ all of it after I - ” He couldn’t say the words out loud, as if silence would make it so it never happened.

“After you died?”

“I - I wasn’t really dead.”

“Oh you were most definitely dead. My mark faded away to nothing for about thirty seconds. It flared back, just as painful as the first time, and I was scared the universe had given me someone new. But no, Hagrid came along carrying your body and I knew you were all right.”

Harry shivered in horror at Draco’s words. It hurt to have his worst fears confirmed, that he had really died. He boxed it all up to think about another time. Or never. “Draco… I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He looked down at his dressing gown and plucked at a stray thread.

“No, sorry you had to suffer like that.” Harry shifted to sit next to Draco and pulled him into a gentle hug. Softly he said, “Thirty seconds must have felt like a lifetime.”

“Harry, we can’t do this.” Draco’s fingers grasped Harry’s shirt and he buried his face in Harry’s neck. “We can’t build a relationship on sex.”

“Maybe really good sex? Yeah, no, we can’t. But it’s a start. Learn to like one thing about each other, and we can learn to like other things about each other.”

“Even my Death Eater past and all the ways we’ve hurt each other?”

Harry took a deep breath while his thoughts ran wild. There _were_ a lot of obstacles. But the soulmark had made Harry uncharacteristically optimistic. “If we believe it can work, it will.”

“There are too many ways this can go wrong.”

“But so many where it can go right. You just have to give it a chance. We can’t give up before we’ve even begun. Go out with me and you’ll see. Let’s talk about nothing and everything. Learn about who we are now. Forgive and move on. We can build something new. Something wonderful.”

Draco made a non-committal sound and nestled in deeper to Harry’s side. Harry held tight until Draco’s body relaxed into sleep. Carefully he slipped from the bed and began the trek to Gryffindor Tower.

\--------

Harry slept until nearly noon, thankful Saturday had finally arrived. How much longer could he manage the late nights and early mornings? He’d have to start skiving off lessons again, but that seemed a shame after all the progress he’d made.

His eyes scanned the Slytherin table for Draco, even though his mark told him Draco was still in the Dungeons. Harry hoped he wasn’t upset about their conversation the night before. He would have to catch him today to smooth things over, or he could wait until that evening.

Except that the password to Slytherin had changed. 

Harry stood in the corridor, pressed to the door, running through all the constellations he knew. He needed to brush up on his Astronomy. For now, he could only wait and hope Draco would notice his absence and come open the door. So he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And finally had to give up around two in the morning when staying awake became too difficult. Pushing away the sting of rejection, he made his way back to his own bed.

\--------

Harry felt like a zombie, heading down to breakfast the next morning. He hadn’t slept well at all and needed some kind of explanation from Draco. He loved to push Harry away with words, but his actions always drew Harry back in. Surely he hadn’t _meant_ to shut Harry out completely?

Draco didn’t come to breakfast. Or lunch.

At a loss, Harry lingered under his Cloak near the Slytherin common room, hoping to overhear the password, but luck wasn’t in his favor. Per fucking usual.

Finally, for breakfast Monday, Draco joined Zabini and Nott at the Slytherin table. Harry watched him like a hawk, terrified he would disappear if he blinked for too long. As soon as the three boys finished, Harry shot to his feet and followed them out the door. Vaguely he heard Ron shouting that he’d left his bag, but Harry didn’t care about it. Ron would take it to Defence for him. He covered himself with his Cloak and followed quietly.

The three Slytherins moved up staircases and down corridors, heading towards Arithmancy, when Draco suddenly said, “You two go on. I’ll meet you there.” He ducked into the boys’ toilet, then spun around with his arms crossed. “Don’t you have lessons to get to? I don’t have time for this.”

“Don’t have _time_? Two nights you shut me out and all you can do is whine about classes?” Harry shoved Draco up against the wall. “I fucking _waited_ for you. Looked for you at night. The damn password changed. Don’t you even care?”

“Oh,” Draco said on an exhale. “I thought you were mad at me.” 

“Well I fucking am now! Couldn’t you feel me pacing outside? Can’t you tell the difference between me in the Tower and me in the corridor right outside your fucking common room?” Harry ground his hips against Draco. “Don’t you want me like I want you?”

“Harry…” Draco sighed.

“Don’t you dare!” Harry shook his head and sighed against Draco’s neck. “Don’t you dare act like you don’t want this right now!” 

“Oh Harry,” Draco whispered against his lips. “I can’t do this. You know the public would go mad if you showed up on the arm of another bloke. You have to let me go. Find someone else. A pretty, young witch that everyone will love. It’s for the best.”

Find someone else. Find someone _else_? What the fuck? The universe had paired them together for a reason, right? How could Draco just throw it away? So many people had lost their soulmates in the war and he didn’t even want to give it a try?

Ron sighed when he found Harry curled up in his bed that afternoon. “Harry, do you think maybe you’re throwing yourself at this a little too hard?” He shoved Harry’s legs over and sat on the foot of his bed.

“No, I don’t. He’s mine and I don’t know why he’s being so stubborn about it.”

“In that case, have you tried to make him jealous?” 

“You think?” Harry said, peeking out of the covers.

“It’s Hogsmeade in two weeks. Take someone else, like he suggested. Preferably another bloke. Laugh it up, kiss him where people can see it. Even better if your picture gets in the _Prophet_ and the public is underwhelmed.”

Brilliant idea. He could find someone to go with him on a single date. Blaise Zabini. He’d definitely make Draco jealous. And after a brief conversation, Zabini thought the whole thing sounded like fun, and he promised to keep it to a single snog for the papers.

The mark on Harry’s back burned like a thousand suns on the walk to Hogsmeade.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?” Harry asked Zabini, carefully adjusting his scarf against the cool March wind.

“I haven’t met her formally, but I know who she is.”

“Oh, why haven’t you pursued her?”

“Some things matter more than the mark on our bodies. I don’t think we would suit. And my mother was no happier with her soulmate than she was with any of her other husbands.”

“Oh, did you know him?”

“No, my father died when I was nearly a year old. My mother remarried within the year.”

“Hm, so it’s possible she’s lied to you about it. Maybe to convince herself his early demise was of no consequence?”

Zabini’s brown eyes burned into Harry for a moment, then he looked over his shoulder at the castle. He shook himself and smiled at Harry, “Is Draco your soulmate?”

“My soulmate is an annoying git that says one thing and does another, just to confuse the hell out of me and drive me to the brink of madness.” It sounded like grumbling in his head, but when he said the words out loud, they sounded suspiciously fond. He didn’t _like_ the way Draco drove him mad, did he?

“Yes,” Zabini said with a fond smile, “sounds like Draco.”

Harry shrugged so he wouldn’t have to lie and say Zabini was wrong. “He’s worth putting up with, though, because he kisses like a fucking dream.”

“Mm,” Zabini agreed, “definitely Draco.”

Suddenly Harry remembered where Draco likely got his experience and scowled, but Zabini laughed it off and took Harry’s hand. “Don’t pout if you want everyone to think we’re having fun. Let’s keep it light.”

Instead of going into the shops, Zabini walked them slowly past the shop windows, idly commenting on the wares on display. They drew eyes from every corner, which Harry knew was part of the plan, but still made him want to shrink into himself and hide in his bed. He fucking hated the general public. 

At the end of the street, Zabini _almost_ pulled him around the last building so they were _nearly_ out of sight of everyone and then kissed him. And no light brushing of lips either. His tongue delved deep in Harry’s mouth, exploring all corners. Harry swore he heard a flashbulb or two go off, which simultaneously pissed him off and made him cheer that the plan was working.

For about three days, Harry Potter’s name was on everyone’s lips. Some students pointed and giggled, others looked on curiously. A few asked for an autograph over the photo that appeared in the _Daily Prophet_. But Harry Potter could do no wrong, so really, no one cared.

Only Draco seemed to be genuinely angry about it.

Then Kingsley Shacklebolt announced the new elections for Minister of Magic would be opening up and the _Daily Prophet_ had to focus on politics once again. Harry was still there, of course, but buried in the later pages few bothered reading.

He continued to pace outside the Slytherin common room a few nights a week, but Draco never came for him.


	3. Ch 2

Harry finished the last of his strawberry cheesecake with a frown. He hadn’t seen Draco all day, and his mark hadn’t stopped pointing the way down to the Dungeons. How long was Draco going to pout about Harry’s ‘coming out’ article? Did he wish it had been him? Did he at least want to get off together again? Zabini had offered a little fun, after their ‘date,’ but Harry didn’t want someone else. He wanted the person that belonged to him, the person he belonged to.

Thankfully, Draco had an extreme dedication to his studies and never missed class. As Potions class ended, Harry ‘accidentally’ spilled Armadillo Bile on Draco and dragged him to the supply closet for the solvent to clean it. They could hear the soft shuffling of students leaving, and Professor Mendoza telling them to clean their work station, before she also left. And then they were alone.

“Potter, you absolue git. I can’t believe you!” Draco angrily dabbed at the vivid green potion on his robe. “You could have just asked me to talk privately!”

“I didn’t think you’d agree.” 

Draco snorted and tossed his rag into the soiled materials bin. He capped the solvent and set it on the shelf. “Enjoy your date with Blaise? Quite talented, is he not?”

“Fuck off, I didn’t do anything but kiss him for that photo. You have to know it’s you I want.”

Draco shook his head sadly. “I don’t know why. What will it take for you to give up?”

Harry laughed, “Me? Give up? After everything? I only know how to soldier on.” He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and kissed him lightly. “They don’t care I’m gay.” He kissed Draco again. “What else do you have?” Another kiss. “Tell me, so I can prove you wrong.”

“I - I can’t… It’s all so much. The things that stand between us.” His fingers toyed with the hair on Harry’s nape. Then he kissed Harry, soft and lingering. “How can we overcome all that?”

“We can. I know we can. Please.” Harry’s tongue swiped along Draco’s lips, begging entry. He sighed in relief when Draco opened to him. “Let me in. Tonight.”

Draco pulled away and walked silently through the store room and into the classroom. 

“Please, Draco…”

With a sigh, Draco paused at the classroom door. “It’s ‘Lotus Blossom.’” He looked back at Harry. “But it’s just for tonight, all right?”

Harry grinned, already hardening in anticipation.

\--------

Barely even looking at the other beds in the Slytherin dorm, Harry threw his Invisibility Cloak to the foot of Draco’s bed, his shirt quickly following.

Draco welcomed him with a deep kiss, his hands coasting over Harry’s body. It felt like an eternity since they’d last shared this heat, this energy. And Harry knew, as his mouth moved over Draco’s body, that if he could just say the right thing, or make Draco _need_ they way Harry did, that they would be all right.

And he thought he knew the right words. As soon as Draco broke off their kiss, Harry blurted out, “I’m sorry.” Harry panted against Draco, and wrapped a leg around his hip to keep him close enough to listen. “I’m sorry I rejected you back in first year.”

Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s with a sigh. “I’m sorry I made fun of your friends. Sorry I called them ugly names.”

Harry moaned through another kiss and then nuzzled Draco’s jaw. “I’m sorry for drugging Crabbe and Goyle and leaving them half naked in a cupboard.”

Draco dropped kisses down Harry’s chest, tickled his sides playfully. “I’m sorry I egged my father on about the hippogriff and Hagrid.” He bit lightly on Harry’s upper thigh.

On a sharp inhale, Harry flexed his hips. Fuck, Draco was close, so very close to... “I’m so sorry I attacked you on the train.”

He got a laugh in response and a soft kiss in the seam of his thigh. “I’m sorry I attacked _you_ on the train.” Draco licked lightly on the tip of his cock and Harry smothered a gasp.

“Draco… I’m so, so sorry I cursed -” His words cut off as Draco’s mouth enveloped his prick. Draco hummed in pleasure, sending vibrations through Harry’s whole body. “Fucking hell! Draco…”

His mouth moved slowly along Harry’s length, taking him deeper each time. Everything was so slick and so hot, Harry couldn’t put his words together anymore. His entire world narrowed to the heat of Draco’s mouth. Fingers gripped his hips tight, and each point of contact buzzed with energy and heat. “Fuck, Draco… It’s almost… fuck, yes… _now_...” 

He buried his fingers in Draco’s hair, trembling wildly from the force of his orgasm. Pulse after pulse of pleasure and heat swept through him, pushed along by light licks of Draco’s tongue.

“Fuck,” Harry said softly, reverently. Draco rested his head against Harry’s thigh and sighed. “Draco...”

“I’m sorry too,” Draco interrupted. He lay on the bed and gathered Harry in his arms. Against his hip, Harry could feel Draco’s erection fading. “For all of it. Sorry things are what they are. Sorry I’m me and you’re you.” His tone rose at the end and anticipation sizzled along Harry’s spine. He needed so badly for Draco to let him in.

But then, “This isn’t anything, Potter. And now it’s over.” 

Defying his words, he kissed Harry one more time. Harry tasted the bitter remains of his orgasm on Draco’s tongue and wished things were different between them. But he knew from long experience that wishing a thing never made it happen.

Action made things happen. As Draco slipped on his dressing gown and held the door open, Harry considered the situation. He could easily force Draco’s hand - if they spent enough time together, people would notice the way their marks aligned. But that would ultimately drive Draco away. No, what he needed to do was show Draco that Harry understood and agreed. They could hide, spend their nights together, and no one need know.

Harry would play Draco’s game until Draco was ready to change the rules.

\--------

Twice more Harry snuck into Slytherin, but then the password changed again. Harry asked him for the new one, but Draco protested, saying it was for the best they end things now.

Harry stewed and whined, but nothing seemed to change Draco’s mind. As May approached, Harry started to worry more and more about the anniversary of the Final Battle. The entire castle was gearing up for the memorial dinner, and the victory celebration to follow. But Harry could only think about the people that died, including himself.

The party moved from the Great Hall to the individual common rooms. Harry missed all of it, curled up in his bed and thinking about that night in the forest. What if he hadn’t come back? What if he hadn’t even been given the option? He moaned and rocked in his bed, trying to drown out those kinds of thoughts.

The sound of the party rose as the dorm door opened, and then his mark slid from ankle to hip.

“Draco,” he said softly. 

“Found you,” Draco responded, spooning up behind Harry in the bed. Harry turned, curling into Draco. “Ron pulled me aside after dinner. Said you were badly off.”

“I died,” Harry whispered.

“But only a little.” Draco rubbed circles up Harry’s back and into his hair. “You’re alive. You’re here with me now, aren’t you?” His fingers carded through the tangled locks, smoothing them as best he could.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Draco kissed Harry’s head and smoothed his hair back. “I’ll stay as long as I can.”

That wasn’t what Harry meant, but at least Draco waited until he’d fallen asleep before returning to Slytherin. Even that little bit helped Harry to get out of bed the next day. Later in the week when he was still having trouble, Draco went flying with the quidditch team, and Harry buzzed with the energy of his soulmark traveling erratically over his body.

He hunted Draco down on his way back to the Dungeons, but only got a lengthy snog session out of it. Again, not much, but enough to remind Harry he had lived, and something good waited for him. If he could just play his cards right.

What Harry really needed was the password to Slytherin. He still believed the key to Draco’s heart lay… in his pants. 

But Draco took his NEWTs entirely too seriously and avoided Harry even more than he did when Harry first began the search. They met occasionally for fun times in hidden places around the school, including a memorable afternoon to celebrate Draco’s birthday, but it always left Harry wanting. Wanting a bed, wanting privacy, wanting time to talk more.

In a desperate bid on their last week of school, Harry approached Blaise Zabini and promised him a favor in return for the Slytherin password. Blaise’s unnerving smile was worth it for the ‘grindylow’ that let him into the common room.

They were leaving school in three days, but more importantly, two nights. Harry’s chances of convincing Draco to stay with him were ever diminishing. And Harry had only one more thing left of himself to offer.

The first night, he chickened out. After all the intimacies they’d shared, it should have been easy. But a lifetime of having his trust trampled left Harry feeling raw and fragile. He couldn’t let it go and make himself so vulnerable to someone that didn’t even - but no, he had to believe Draco wanted him.

The next night, Harry worked himself into a better mindset. They were on the cusp of something new and wonderful, and Draco needed a little boost of confidence. Harry knew things would improve when they left school. Once they’d reached the real world, Draco would see things were better than he’d imagined. 

Harry showered thoroughly, and spruced himself up as best he could without garnering suspicion from the other boys. He wanted to dress in something special too, but knew his dorm mates would wonder why he wasn’t in pyjamas. As he snuck into Draco’s dorm, he was happy to find Draco awake and waiting for him.

Draco’s eyes widened when Harry came in. He took in the fresh and pressed appearance and seemed to grasp immediately that this night would be special.

“I feel like I should have put forth a little more effort,” Draco said as he ran his fingers through Harry’s clean, wild hair. He rubbed their noses together playfully and gave Harry a light peck on the lips.

“You’re fine…” Harry ran a hand down Draco’s chest, then under the covers to skim his naked thigh. “Amazing, really.” Harry hesitated, unsure how to direct the conversation to what he’d been thinking of for days. He settled across Draco’s thighs and took his hand. “Tomorrow… we’re going home tomorrow and I was hoping we could go together.”

Draco started to pull away but Harry held tight. “Well, we’re all getting on the same train,” Draco said slowly.

Harry shook his head. “You know what I’m saying, Draco. I want us _arriving_ together. I don’t care if it’s to Grimmauld Place,” inwardly he cringed at the possible state of the house, “or to the Manor,” another inward shudder because he didn’t want to go there either, “or some room in an inn… I just want us to be together.”

Draco looked down at their joined hands and ran his thumb over Harry’s fingers. “It’s such a small thing, and yet so huge. My parents… my mother… She doesn’t know about us.”

“You didn’t tell her?”

“I wanted to but - but I was afraid.” His eyes met Harry’s earnestly. “I’m the last of my line, Harry. The last Malfoy. If I - if we’re together…”

Harry didn’t see the big deal. He was the last in the line of Potters as well, but there were ways around that. “We can figure it out. So long as you _want_ to figure it out together.”

“I - I do. But my mother…”

“Promise me,” Harry said softly, kissing Draco’s lips lightly. “Promise me we’ll go together to talk to her.”

Draco responded with a harsh moan into Harry’s mouth. His hands dragged Harry ever closer, moving rapidly down Harry’s body. With a happy sigh, Harry melted into him, already imagining them hopping off the train hand-in-hand, to greet Narcissa Malfoy.

As they moved together, shedding clothes and caressing newly revealed skin, Harry wondered if he should be memorising every touch, every sound. But fuck if it wasn’t too overwhelming to hold. Energy sizzled everywhere Draco touched him, his clever mouth and fingers driving Harry ever higher.

By the time Draco’s fingers were replaced with his cock, Harry was trembling with need. He had a single moment of panic when Draco first pressed in, but then his cock slid past the outer ring of muscle and it was a smooth glide until he was fully seated. And fuck it felt amazing!

Draco’s short, rolling thrusts kept a throbbing pressure on Harry’s prostate that made it almost impossible to breath. Pleasure spiraled out in waves, and just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, Draco switched to long, slow thrusts that let Harry relax. Over and over he alternated long and short thrusts until Harry was clawing desperately at him.

“Fuck, Draco,” he groaned. “Don’t stop… I’m so… so close…” Harry couldn’t hold back anymore, and took his cock in hand, stroking it rapidly. On the next round of short thrusts, Harry felt the world around him collapsing, his body flying apart on the explosion from his core. 

“Harry… _yes_ ,” Draco’s fingers dug deep into his thighs, holding him open. Harry could feel his muscles clamping down around the hard, thick length inside him. And then with one last, deep thrust, Draco was coming, pulsing hard and biting him on the shoulder to smother his groan. He moved slower and slower inside Harry until he finally collapsed on top of him.

Holy fucking hell. Harry was wrung out, sore, sweaty, and tired. He’d never felt better. 

Draco brushed his lips across Harry’s cheeks, down his jaw, and moaned as he reached for his wand. He whispered a few cleaning charms over them and then gathered Harry close. How badly Harry wanted to slide under the covers, even overheated as they both were. But any indication that Harry wasn’t leaving shortly always made Draco tense.

This was Harry’s moment. The words rose up in a jumble, and Harry let them spill out without thought. “I’m so glad that I found you. Even though we’ve got a wild history, I’m still happy to have you. To have someone of my very own.” 

He felt Draco bracing to speak but Harry silenced him with a kiss. He had more to say. “I spent so many years alone. My aunt and uncle hated me so much and when you’re a kid, it’s so hard to imagine anything different, that anything can change. I’d lie awake in my cupboard -” Harry’s heart clenched, thinking of those years. 

And of course Draco had to catch on that. “A special hiding place?”

“My bedroom. Of sorts. Until I got my Hogwarts letter, I slept in the cupboard under the stairs.” Draco gasped and started to sit up. But Harry couldn’t bear to talk about it now, not when he felt so raw and open. He pressed their foreheads together and kissed Draco softly. “Don’t. Not now.” He swallowed heavily. “I used to pretend my parents hadn’t died and that one day they’d come for me and say it was all just a mistake.” 

“And instead you got Hagrid,” Draco said quietly. His arms cradled Harry close enough he could feel Draco’s smile, rather than see it.

“It was like a miracle. And I found out about the soulmark and I wanted one so very badly. _Needed_ someone that would always be there for me. I was sad when it wasn’t Ginny. I thought I loved her but… I don’t really know what love feels like. Dumbledore always said I had love protecting me, and that love was my most powerful weapon but how do you wield a weapon you can’t understand? I was just as ignorant as Voldemort on that score.”

He felt Draco’s flinch at the mention of Voldemort. He ran a soothing hand down Draco’s back, and dropped little kisses on his cheeks and lips. “Draco,” he sighed, “I know we have so much history and troubles to overcome. But I know we can. I need this, need you. I can’t die a second time without love.”

“You - you can’t love me.”

“Well, not yet… but I know I can. I just need time. _We_ need time. Together. I want to build a life with you. We can do that, can’t we?”

“Oh Harry…”

“We have to try.” Harry kissed Draco and summoned his pyjamas from the floor. “We’ll start tomorrow. The train ride home.” He stood on the bed and pulled his pyjama bottoms on.

Draco slid his legs under the covers. “On the train…”

Harry gathered his shirt and Invisibility Cloak. “On the train,” he agreed with a smile. He dropped one last kiss on Draco’s temple. “Goodnight, Draco.”

He put the Cloak on as Draco nodded with a sad smile. “Goodnight, Harry.”

Knowing it was the last time he had to leave made the walk to Gryffindor Tower easier to bear.

\--------

After breakfast, students streamed from the castle towards the carriages heading to Hogsmeade station. Professor Sprout directed the seventh and eighth years towards the boats waiting by the dock.

“Boats, really?” Ron asked with an eye roll.

“It’s tradition,” Hermione said, taking his hand. “First years come in on the boats, and seventh years leave on the boats. A final farewell. I think it’s lovely.”

Harry looked behind him, to see if Draco would be joining them soon. He wanted to share the boat going across the lake for the last time. It somehow felt like the beginning of the next phase of their lives. His mark burned the back of his neck, and he wondered what could possibly be taking Draco so long at breakfast.

So focused was he on the mark, he couldn’t help but gasp when it shot down to his shin.

“What the fuck?” Harry mumbled, lifting the leg of his jeans to verify that yes, the sickle-sized mark was just above the top of his sock. He straightened and searched the lake in front of them, and the land beyond it as if he could see Draco lingering just south of the property.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“No. No, he couldn’t have.” Harry’s heart raced and he had trouble drawing in a breath as it dawned on him what this meant. “No!” Impossible, there was no way Draco could have abandoned him like that.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, reaching for him.

He knocked her hand aside and elbowed his way to Blaise Zabini, talking with Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. “Where’s Draco?”

The three of them eyed each other warily, then Blaise shrugged, “Home, I suppose. Did he not tell you he was traveling by floo this morning?”

“No, he fucking did _not_ ,” Harry growled. He buried his hands in his hair, then shook them out. Sparks dripped from his fingertips as magic built in an alarming wave he wasn’t sure he could control. Black spots danced across his eyes. “He promised me… the train…”

“Did he…” Blaise swallowed heavily, keeping his eyes on Harry’s twitchy fingers, “did he actually _say_ he would meet you or did he -”

He cut off at Harry’s loud screech. Harry swept his hand across the air and a tidal wave of water swept across the lake. “He’s going to fucking pay for this! _Accio broom_!” He’d only meant to summon his own broom, but his out of control magic brought him six different brooms.

“Harry, wait,” Ron said, grabbing for his arm. He hissed in surprise when an electric shock crackled at the contact. “You can’t really mean to fly all that way.”

The mark on his ankle mocked him as he turned to Ron. “Oh, can’t I?”

“Follow him. Floo to the Manor, or - or Grimmauld Place, Diagon Alley.” He reached for Harry again, but didn’t quite touch him this time. His voice turned pleading. “Please, it’s a - a shorter flight. Safer. Faster.”

Harry turned towards the castle and took the path at a run.

\--------

The flight from Grimmauld Place to the Manor did nothing to cool Harry’s rage. He didn’t know exactly where Malfoy Manor was located, and decided Apparating would be too dangerous with his unstable magic. But he had a built-in compass that would lead him directly there.

Unfortunately, he came at the Manor from the wrong angle. The wards that kept Harry from flooing directly there, also kept him from flying over the lawn straight to the main house. He had to circle the property to find the path leading to the main gate, which he knew would tip Malfoy off to his arrival. He hoped the lying little bastard felt his mark circling and felt fear that Harry was coming for him.

Dropping his broom to the ground, Harry banged on the gates and shouted, “Malfoy, you lying coward! You open these fucking gates right now!” He took hold of the bars and shook them. “Malfoy! I’m not leaving! Not until -”

He spun around, hoping his mark jumping to his left hip meant that Draco had Apparated out to meet him. But no, he remained alone at the gates looking out over land the Malfoys definitely did not own. 

His fucking soulmate had bolted again.

A black wave of rage crested inside him and Harry took it out on the gates. He screamed and rattled them again, feeling the metal beginning to melt in his grip. With a slow creak, they swung open. Harry snatched up his broom and flew to the front door. 

He kicked it open, shouting, “Narcissa! Show yourself! Tell me where Malfoy’s gone!”

Seconds later, Narcissa Malfoy glided into the entryway with a calm, cool sneer on her face. “Mr Potter. I would welcome you to my home but you’ve already damaged my gates and my front door.”

“Where is Malfoy?” Harry seethed.

“My son is not at home. He said -”

Harry picked up a nearby vase and threw it against the wall. “I know he’s not _here_.” Harry lifted his shirt and pushed the top of his jeans down a little, exposing his hip with the perfect black circle on it. He turned from side to side so she could see it slide across his skin. “I want to know where he’s gone.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock as she took in the soulmark.

“I see he neglected to share _all_ the details of my visit?”

“He said…” She cleared her throat and her cool mask slid back in place. “He said you would be looking for him and I wasn’t to share his location. That he might be in danger.”

“Oh, he’s in danger all right. I’m going to kill him when I find him and hope the universe gives me a new soulmate.” Harry held out his hand and the mark jumped to his fingertips. “Good thing I don’t need your help. I’ll find him on my own. Even if it takes me longer this way.” He headed out the door, scooping up his broom as he passed. 

“Mr Potter, wait,” Narcissa called. “You don’t really mean to kill my son, do you?”

Harry stopped and sighed. The mark burned just below his navel, rage and desire mixing like oil and water. “I don’t know,” he said softly. He turned back to her and shook his head. “I know we have things to settle between us and we’ll never manage it if he can’t stop running. I know I want a companion, a family, a real life. I know -” Harry shook his head as memories of their last night burned in him, “I know we could build something beautiful if he would give me something to trust in.”

Narcissa seemed to calm at that. “For his seventeenth birthday, Draco was gifted a small property in Toulouse, although he has never yet had a chance to visit it.”

A mother’s approval. Harry smiled at his first bit of luck all day. He took flight, headed for the portkey office in London.

\--------

It seemed a simple matter, to follow the mark. But he underestimated Draco’s stubbornness and his desire to not be found. 

Arranging the portkey took forever. As soon as he landed, his mark jumped again as it reoriented to Harry’s new location. According to his map and the witch at the portkey office in Toulouse, it still pointed to the Malfoy’s property. But that meant Draco would likely know Harry had landed nearby.

It didn’t surprise him to find the wards wouldn’t let him into the property. Just to scope it out, he flew a large circle of the perimeter, taking note of the lovely grounds and the sprawling house. And so he learned the hard way that flying circles around his soulmate would make him skip town. Didn’t Draco even trust his own wards to keep Harry out?

Days later he tracked Draco to the coast, in a tiny bed and breakfast. Harry did his best to keep his soulmark in one place as much as possible, so Draco wouldn’t know how close he’d gotten. But Draco saw him speaking to the proprietress and ran for it.

Two more near misses over the next week, and Harry decided to switch tactics. He traveled more slowly, taking time to nap during the day, and sprung his trap during the night. Draco Apparated away in a panic, naked as the day he was born, before Harry could ensnare him.

Harry found Draco’s suitcase full of clothes and ripped them all to shreds, then returned to the inn where he’d rented a room. The location would make Draco’s mark shift again so he would know it was safe to return to his hiding spot and retrieve his clothes. Even angry as Draco made him, Harry didn’t want him lost and in danger without a single stitch of clothing. All right, so maybe shredding his clothes had been a mistake, but Draco had a wand and could probably fix them. And it made Harry feel better. And worse at the same time.

He sighed as he slumped over his bed. This was too much work. How much rejection could one man take? But the thought of going home empty handed hurt worse. He needed one more chance to speak his mind - either to convince Draco they could still work, or else to yell his rage at the person that deserved it the most.

Although when it came down to it, Harry was running low on rage. The initial burst of anger had faded, and depression began taking its place. Getting up in the morning and dragging himself through another town or down a winding road became more and more difficult. What was the point? Draco didn’t want him, and when would he accept it?

Never, he thought with a vicious shake to his emotions. He couldn’t give up. Not when it meant so much to him. He hastily packed his bag with all the odds and ends he’d picked up along the journey - clothes mostly, but also souvenirs and gifts for his friends back home. Might as well make the most of this impromptu tour of southern France. With the way his mark drifted, soon the tour would extend to the northern portion as well. Perhaps Draco was at long last working his way back home.

He shouldered his bag and headed to the local portkey station. His mark indicated Draco had made a jump to the west. Perhaps back to the coast again? He could use a little sun and it was a good place to start the next search.

\--------

Harry cast another Disillusionment Charm, wishing for the hundredth time that he’d brought his Invisibility Cloak with him when he’d stormed off from school all those weeks ago. Crouching in the lower branches of a tree, he reckoned he could only be creepier if he started wanking. What a horribly ridiculous situation he’d been reduced to - spying on his own soulmate in some outer region of Calais. 

And why the fuck didn’t Draco close the curtains? Almost as if he knew Harry sat outside watching him wander his room, with all that gorgeous, toned skin on display. Harry didn’t know if he wanted to flay him alive or lick every inch of him. Maybe the second one, and then the first one.

Draco’s head popped up from his book, looking at the door with trepidation. Good, let him be nervous. Harry had owled the owner earlier, with a message for Draco. He watched as Draco slipped on his dressing gown and picked up his wand on the way to the door. Cautiously he opened it, then visibly relaxed when it was only the owner.

He read the note, a simple thing asking for a meeting in a restaurant in town, and immediately swirled his wand around the room, gathering his things into his suitcase. Coward. What, exactly, did Harry see in him anyway? But then Draco’s dressing gown joined the clothes flying into the suitcase and Harry could see Draco’s soulmark, vivid against the pale skin of his upper thigh, and he thought he felt his own mark throb.

As expected, Draco fled the little inn, preparing to Apparate anywhere else. He tripped on the bottom step, a tricky hex Harry had set up, and sprawled face down across some pretty little red flowers. 

Harry yelled, “Expelliarmus,” as he jumped from his tree and didn’t even care that Draco’s wand sailed over his shoulder. 

Before Draco could scramble to his feet, Harry flicked his wand at the plants and vines grew out of the flower bed to wrap around Draco’s arms and legs. Draco struggled against the vines, snapping them and tearing out roots, but more grew in their place.

Success ran hot through Harry’s veins as he slowly knelt astride Draco’s hips. He leaned down and whispered in Draco’s ear, “Found you.”

“Clever trick,” Draco sighed, dropping his head into the flowers, “spooking me into running.”

“Well it turns out that’s not hard to do so I’m not sure I should be called clever.” Harry got to his feet and dusted off his jeans.

Draco pulled lightly at the plants. “So what now? Going to drag me back to England?”

Harry vanished the vines and Draco rolled to a sitting position, backing away from Harry. After a long, tense pause, Harry said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Three weeks you’ve been chasing me, and you don’t know?”

Too many emotions swirled inside Harry. Joy for his success at catching Draco at last. Fear that he would run away before… before whatever would happen between them. Sadness for the love he’d lost, countered by hope for the love that could be gained. Rage at his soulmate’s betrayal and abandonment. Lust for the body that brought him such pleasure.

Serenity took over at last. And Harry knew what he wanted to say. “You left me. I gave you everything I have and you left me.”

Draco wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the ground, clearly wishing it would swallow him whole. “I know,” he said quietly.

“Do you?” Harry asked. “Do you know what it cost me? What another betrayal by someone that was supposed to love me, to take care of me - what that would do to me?” Harry shook his head hard, willing away the tears that burned his eyes.

“Harry, I can’t -”

“Stop! Just stop fucking _lying_ to me! I trusted you! I told you…” Harry choked back a sob. “I told you…” But he couldn’t get the words out anymore. They were smothered with rage and the searing loneliness Harry had lived with for too long. He turned his back on Draco and with a loud scream, slashed at the ground with his wand. Dirt flew out from the deep gashes Harry made in the ground, but it didn’t cool his rage.

He rushed Draco, picking him up by his shirt and pinning him to the door of the inn. “I hate you! Do you hear me? I fucking _hate_ you!” He slammed Draco one more time then backed away. Draco slid to the ground, tears pouring from his eyes. “I gave you everything I have and you burned it to the ground and pissed on the ashes! You were supposed to be different! You were supposed to care! Well you know what, I’m done!"

Harry held out his hand behind him and Draco’s wand sailed across the yard to slap into his palm. “I’m done with you. Go fuck off merrily into the sunset.” Harry threw the wand at Draco, and didn’t care that it bounced painfully off his temple. “Enjoy your lonely, pathetic life. Get your Potions Mastery, travel the world, fuck pretty boys that don’t know your name. Forget your lies and excuses. You don’t need them anymore. I’m done with you.”

Harry closed his eyes and spun on his heel, Apparating to the room he’d rented across town. He scooped up his packed bag and left for the portkey office without a backward glance.


	4. Ch 3

The chiming of the floo made Harry’s aching head throb. He pulled the covers over his head and shouted, “Go away! I already got out of bed today!”

“Good to know,” a deep voice said.

Harry heard the clomping of feet moving up the stairs and scrambled to find his glasses and his wand. He pointed his wand at the door, just as Blaise Zabini walked through. “Blaise?” He was accustomed to Ron and Hermione stopping by every day since he returned from France, but there was no way to anticipate the sight of Blaise Zabini walking into his bedroom.

Blaise looked around with a grimace at the dirty clothes and dusty furniture, then conjured his own chair to sit in. He crossed his legs and looked at Harry with a smile. “You owe me a favor.”

“Fuck off, I’m not in the mood for favors.” Harry lay back down in his bed, pulling the covers up over his head again.

“I understand your birthday is in four days.”

“So what.”

“So you owe me a favor. You’re going to throw a birthday party.”

Harry poked his head out of the covers and glared at Blaise. “No I’m not.”

“You’re going to throw a birthday party and, as a favor to me, you are going to see that Ginevra Weasley is there.”

“Ginny?” Harry tried to focus on the strange shift the conversation had taken. “She’s… is she with the Harpies yet?”

“I believe their training camp starts the fifteenth of August.”

Harry sat up in his bed and tried to get his thoughts together. “You want me to throw a birthday party and invite Ginny.”

“And me, of course,” Blaise said with a smile, straightening his perfect cuffs.

“Anyone else?” Harry deadpanned.

Blaise waved a hand airily, “Oh I’m sure you’ll think of some others. But it’s high time she and I met. Formally.” He winked at Harry.

“Fuck. I’m throwing a birthday party.”

“No balloons,” Blaise said as he stood. “And lots of alcohol.”

After spending most of the week in bed, Harry’s sore body moved slowly through a shower. He heated a container of chicken and rice Ron and Hermione had left in the fridge and began making a list.

Ron came through the floo as Harry started a guest list. “Oh good, you’re up!” He looked confused at the list Harry made. “You’re having a birthday party?” 

“Yeah… kind of a long story. Or maybe not. I owe Blaise a favor and he’s called it in. He wants to meet Ginny.” Harry handed him the list. “I don’t even care who comes, but here’s some people we can get a hold of easily. Surely word will spread and more people will come, right?”

Ron took the paper without looking it over. “Blaise Zabini wants to meet Ginny?”

“Yeah, erm…”

“Say no more,” Ron said, holding up his hand. “Just tell me he’s a decent guy.”

“His mum is part siren.”

“Fuck.” Ron looked at the paper, then around the dark, musty kitchen. “Where are you planning on having this little get-together?”

“The Leaky Cauldron?”

“Classy.” He pursed his lips and looked at the list again. “You know what? It might be time to give you your birthday present. Let me firecall George.”

Twenty minutes later, Harry, George, and Ron were standing outside Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. Or what used to be Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour. The boarded up shop had never reopened after Florean Fortescue was taken by Death Eaters, despite its prime location in the center of Diagon Alley.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said.

“Well it took a lot of paperwork since Mr Fortescue had no heir,” Ron said as he handed over a sheaf of papers. “Hermione handled most of it.”

“And a little gold. That’s where I come in.” He nudged Harry with a little smile. “Fred and I still owed you.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry repeated. He looked at the papers, at the shop, at his two friends. “You bought me an ice cream shop?”

Ron handed him a shiny key. “You need something new to obsess over. And we miss this place. We think it’ll be good for you. We were going to clean it up a little first, but… now you can help us.”

Harry still didn’t understand but he unlocked the door and the three of them took a quick tour. Most of the furniture lay smashed on the floor, but it was nothing a little magic wouldn’t fix. The back rooms - a store room, kitchen, and small office - were all intact. 

Over the next three days, party plans rolled out. Hermione called or owled their friends. Ron and Harry cleaned up the main room of the ice cream parlour. Finding a caterer at this late date proved impossible, but they managed to order food from four different restaurants to feed everyone. Ginny got in the way and asked nosy questions about Blaise Zabini that Harry had no answers for.

On the morning of his birthday, Harry woke with a heavy feeling of dread. He ran through the plans one more time and spent the day looking through Florean Fortescue’s paperwork. Ron had been right about Harry needing something to obsess over. He needed a task, something to keep his mind off the one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about. And starting Monday morning, he would be working on getting the ice cream shop open as soon as possible.

His dread didn’t diminish as his friends arrived that evening. Everyone oohed and aahed over the space, eagerly sharing their memories of ice cream after their start-of-school shopping. There were many well-wishers, all happy Harry would be continuing a beloved tradition.

So distracted was he by his party, by his guests, by Blaise and Ginny making out behind the counter, that he didn’t notice the shift in his soulmark.

Until he turned and found Draco Malfoy holding two flutes of champagne.

First the champagne shot out of the glasses like a fountain. Then the glasses shattered. Harry thought he heard someone cry out, but the whole world had faded away while his emotions swirled hot and unsteady in him. He drew a shuddering breath to calm his wild magic.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was going to - I wanted to toast you, for your birthday. Talk to you a little.” Draco vanished the broken glass with a swish of his wand. “But I guess you don’t want champagne.”

“Don’t want - are you fucking kidding me? All the shit you put me through, and you think I want to drink champagne with you?”

“I didn’t mean…” Draco sighed and started over. “Can we talk somewhere in private?”

Harry’s frown deepened, but he grabbed Draco by the arm and Apparated them to the flat above the shop. He hadn’t had time to clean it all out yet, but he hoped to have it livable soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand living in Grimmauld Place.

“So?” Harry asked, crossing his arms. “Do you have a pretty apology for me? Maybe a new list of excuses of why we’ll never work out? I’m not interested.”

Draco shifted nervously. “I’m sorry I left. I didn’t think I was abandoning you… I was… I was trying to set you free. Of me.”

Harry laughed harshly. “Good one. For my own good, I suppose? That’s what they always say when I find out I’ve been lied to, beaten, betrayed. For my own good. Is that how it went?”

Wiping a stray tear, Draco nodded jerkily. “You deserve better.”

“I know I do!” Harry yelled. He sneered at Draco, “But you’re what I got anyway.”

Draco nodded again and blinked rapidly, still trying to rid himself of tears. “It was a mistake, I know… I only ever see it after... but I - I…” He took a deep breath and pressed his hands to his eyes. “Harry…” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at the floor. "You gave me your deepest fears. And now, I want to give you mine."

Harry wanted to stop him. He didn't want to hear it. But Draco was already speaking. “I haven’t made a single good decision in all my life.” He held his arm out to Harry, and they both watched his soulmark slide down over the faded remains of the Dark Mark, a pale pink outline that would likely never fade completely.

“I wanted this. So very badly.” He cradled his arm, running a thumb over the scar. “In that world, it was all I knew. And I wanted to make my father proud, try and save him. I didn’t know… didn’t understand. But it’s all - it’s just one more bad decision in a long line of bad decisions. I don’t - I can’t trust my instincts.”

He looked up at Harry, and Harry found it impossible to look away. His hands dropped to his sides and they stood, face to face, their marks burning over their hearts. Just a few steps would bring them together.

“I left because every single piece of me longs for you. And that can’t be right, when every instinct I’ve ever had has led me astray.” He wiped furiously at another round of tears. “It turns out I’m just as bad at love as you are.”

“You didn’t even try,” Harry said hoarsely. Why did his throat feel so thick?

“I didn’t know how! I was trying so hard to figure out what I wanted, what was - right? Or I don't know. The war had ended, my father was in prison and suddenly I’m back at school working on essays for Flitwick wondering what the fuck just happened to my life.” He wiped his nose and took a deep breath. “And there you were… pursuing me like a demon. Throwing everything at me at once. It was like giving a racing broom to a toddler. Of course I crashed and burned.”

Harry refused to feel guilty about pursuing his soulmate. “So it’s my fault we didn’t work out?”

“No, of course not. I didn’t have the words to explain what I felt and how can you hear what I can’t say?”

Harry felt another crashing wave of guilt, this one too large to ignore. Because he _hadn’t_ considered Draco’s point of view. He’d taken every excuse at face value, without once taking in the whole picture. Draco was afraid and Harry hadn’t cared enough to see it.

“We both failed,” Harry said quietly.

“But it doesn’t have to be the end of it all. I’m moving to London. Blaise helped me find a lab to rent, to finish the last year of my Potions Mastery.”

“You want to try again?” Could Harry’s heart take it?

“I mean, we’re both still pretty broken. Worse, really, than we were last year. But it’s in us to build something together. Just, you know, with walking before we run. Metaphorically. I’m not - not planning on running anymore.” He headed to the door, and smiled hesitantly, “When you’re ready… If you ever think you could forgive me... I’ll be easy to find.”

And just like that, he was gone.

\--------

Opening day of Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour went as smoothly as such things can go. No one seemed to mind the little hiccups along the way, just happy the shop was open again. And that famous Harry Potter smiled for photographs.

Harry smiled all day, even when Draco showed up and ordered a brownie fudge sundae.

At noon on the first of September, Harry hosted another party to celebrate the start of the school year. Any younger sibling of a Hogwarts student could claim a free chocolate biscuit, and homeschooled students got their ice cream for half price. 

Draco showed up for that too, but thankfully didn’t try to approach Harry.

He came the following Friday afternoon, and the one after that. The sneaky bastard didn’t try to cajole Harry into a date. Instead he sat with his ice cream and complained about his Potions research or Blaise hanging out in his flat singing Ginny Weasley’s praises. Harry would join him, reluctantly, and only because he wanted to complain about Ginny’s oversharing about Blaise’s prowess. 

The next week, Draco brought tea and an extra one for Harry but Harry didn’t want it. Draco shrugged and left the extra cup behind, just in case. Harry pondered this new thing they were trying and wasn’t sure if he was ready to let Draco back into his life. He vanished the cup of tea, along with the rest of the rubbish.

In early November, Draco invited Harry on a date.

“No, not like a _date_ date. But Blaise and Ginny are getting married and I thought if you wanted to go with me…”

“I don’t. Want to go with you.” Harry tried not to acknowledge the guilt twisting him in knots. Then sighed, “But I don’t have anyone else to go with either so…”

The wedding was everything Harry expected in a Weasley party. Noise, food, laughter. As usual, Harry hung on the edges of it all, too out-of-place to participate like one of the family. Only this time, Draco was there with him. Knowing that Draco understood how vulnerable Harry felt in these circumstances made it both easier and harder to bear. He never left Harry’s side.

But the wedding was also a Zabini party, and that half could not have been more different. Friends of the former Mrs Zabini, and Blaise’s Slytherin friends from school, were cool and aloof at all times. The doddering old biddies chattered cruelly, all dancing around the fact that their husbands were in Azkaban. 

Harry took Draco’s hand after the third dig at his decision to pursue a Potions Mastery instead of a career in politics, as befit his station. He slid an arm around Draco’s waist when someone’s backhanded compliment suggested Draco would be better off with a Pureblood wife. And he Apparated them away entirely when Mrs Crabbe dabbed lightly at her eye and said how sorry she was her Vincent had followed Draco that fateful day and never returned.

Perhaps this was the push they both needed - a chance to see their insecurities in person. Harry and his mistrust of every sign of affection, his fear that every person held back a truth he needed to hear. And Draco confronted with his poor choices, saddled with self-doubt and poor self-esteem.

How were two broken boys meant to mend each other?

One day at a time, he supposed. Harry started joining Draco for ice cream on Friday afternoons. Occasionally they bumped into each other at a friend’s house, or out shopping. Bit by bit, they let go of fear, and began bridging the wide gap between them. 

Harry encouraged Draco in his studies, praising his successes and talking through his failures. Draco hid nothing from Harry, sharing his every thought and worry. Harry found it difficult to open himself up again, but he appreciated Draco’s continual vulnerability and treated him with care.

Slowly, they came to understand one another in ways they hadn’t before. And Harry finally admitted to himself that perhaps the universe had been right in pairing them together.

\--------

Harry hadn’t expected so many people to show up to Blaise and Ginny’s New Year’s Eve party. Why was he surprised? Between them they knew half the wizarding world. And nearly all of them showed up to ring in the new millennium.

But there was only one person he wanted to see. New Year’s Eve meant a chance for something new. A fresh start. And that’s what he and Draco needed. He wound his way through the crowd, dodging grasping hands and sloshing drinks, trying to follow the burn of his mark. But the noise and the heat of too many bodies made it difficult to focus on.

Then he spotted a familiar head of blond hair, walking out on a crowded balcony. Harry cast a small Ventus charm, to send a chill through the crowd and convince them to seek warmer shelter. Once some started moving back inside, others quickly followed. Draco stood alone, staring at the stars. Harry ignored a snogging couple in one corner that hadn’t noticed the mass exodus. He stopped just behind Draco and said, “Found you.”

Draco turned with a smile. “Harry! Happy New Year’s.” He clinked their glasses together and sipped his wine. “It’s beautiful out tonight, don’t you think?”

“I do think.” Harry leaned against the rail, his hand resting next to Draco’s. “I’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. The expectation, the start of something new.”

“Hoping to start something new this year?” 

Harry slid his hand closer to Draco’s. Their marks nearly touched, hovering on their fingertips. “Actually… I was hoping to maybe continue something old.” He moved his hand that last little bit, covering Draco’s hand with his own.

Draco let out a shaky breath and turned his hand so he could lace their fingers together.

”I don’t want to spend the rest of my life afraid you’ll leave me again. I don’t want you worrying you aren’t good enough. I want…”

“What do you want?” Draco asked, his voice cracking.

“I want trust.” Harry looked down at their joined hands. “Love. Someone to come home to. I want to share my life with someone.” He looked up at Draco, his grey eyes shining bright in the moonlight. “With you.”

“Harry…” Draco sighed, then pulled Harry in for a kiss. 

Their marks moved to their chests, pressed heart to heart, and Harry felt himself melting into the heat and energy pouring out of Draco. This was what he wanted, to feel alive and loved, to be cradled close in his lover’s arms.

“Harry, my Harry… I want that too,” Draco said softly.

Harry laughed and rested his head against Draco’s. “You silly git, you’re supposed to wait until midnight.”

“I couldn't wait anymore. Our new life starts now.” He kissed Harry again. “Together.”


	5. Epilogue

Harry groggily stared at the clock. 5:18. Was that too early to wake up? Probably, but he had no choice really. Draco wasn’t getting the slip on him this year.

Two years ago, he’d woken early in anticipation of his birthday blow job, only to find a note on Draco’s pillow that said, ‘ _Find me. For old time’s sake. - D_ ’ 

It had taken Harry two days to find the little bastard sunning himself on a beach on the west coast of France. He wanted to be angry but there was warm sun, good food, and wild sex to be had. Really, his best holiday in years. 

Last year, he’d slept fitfully the whole night, hoping to catch Draco in the act of leaving to save himself the trouble of hunting. That morning, Draco had laughed at his bedraggled appearance. “As if I would flee in the night! How predictable!” Then he treated Harry to a delicious birthday blow job, and brought him a cup of tea.

Which he’d spiked with a sleeping draught.

Harry woke to another note. ‘ _Hope you are well rested after your nap! Find me faster this year. - D_ ’

Draco was curled up in a comfy sofa, reading a novel, overlooking a mountain range in the Swiss Alps. They’d gone hiking that afternoon and fucked like mad in a meadow full of white flowers.

But this year… this year, Harry was _not_ going to let Draco get the drop on him. He was going to watch his every movement like a hawk. Even if that meant getting up at 5:18.

And since he was up… He pulled the covers back and ran a hand down Draco’s naked back. Draco arched his back and moaned. He rubbed his face on his pillow and sighed sleepily.

Harry straddled his hips and kissed between his shoulder blades, then higher on the nape of his neck. “Wake up,” he whispered in Draco’s ear, running his hands down Draco’s sides. 

Draco moaned again and tilted his hips to the side to let Harry’s hand slide in between him and the bed. Harry kissed Draco’s neck and shoulder, and stroked Draco’s cock lightly. “Aren’t I the one that should be getting special attention? It’s _my_ birthday.”

“If you’re hoping for a birthday blow job,” Draco mumbled, “you’re going to have to wait for the sun to come up.” He rolled over, nearly knocking Harry off in the process. But he resettled himself across Draco’s thighs, and resumed kissing and touching whatever parts he could reach.

All in all, his birthday was off to a great start. Even better when he lowered himself on Draco’s cock and rode him slowly, dragging out their orgasms for as long as he could stand. Still only half awake, they dozed lightly and watched the sun rise through their bedroom window.

When they felt a little more alert, they shared a bottle of pumpkin juice, because Harry didn’t want to risk another ‘nap’ from the tea Draco might provide, and ate from a new, sealed package of ginger biscuits. Harry wasn’t going to eat or drink anything he didn’t open the packing on himself. 

Funny what a difference love could make. Anyone else and Harry would be angry and suspicious. But instead, anticipation and excitement built up inside him as he wondered about Draco’s plan for the day. He knew there had to be some brilliant surprise and he wanted to both spoil it and let it happen.

Although it was difficult to believe Draco had a nefarious plot somewhere in his mind when he sucked Harry off in the shower. 

Draco toweled Harry dry and handed him his glasses. “You look so adorable, all squeaky clean. Let’s stay naked in bed all day so I can make a mess of you.”

Harry laughed, “Why? So you can feed me ‘special chocolates’ that knock me out and you can make your escape? Ha! Not likely.” He pulled Draco in for a nuzzling kind of kiss.

“Maybe I want to shower you with kisses.” He kissed Harry’s lips lightly. “Maybe I don’t want to run off this year.” He rolled his hips against Harry. “Maybe I want to spend the day making you mine.”

“I am yours,” Harry said, rocking them side to side.

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Harry kissed Draco again, then slapped him on the arse on his way out the bathroom door. “But I want a real breakfast and that means clothes.”

Halfway to his dresser, Harry felt a sharp tug near his navel and the whole world swirled away.

He landed with a rolling thump in a posh hotel room. His glasses snapped in half and fell to the floor. “What the fuck?” he yelled to no one at all. And fuck it all, he was _naked_! Without a wand! He turned a circle to take in the whole room and found a card on the bed.

‘ _My dearest love, we’re in a bit of a time crunch today and can’t waste time waiting for you to find me. Instead, I’ll find you when the time is right. In case the portkey spell damaged your glasses, there’s another pair on the nightstand. -D_ ’

A portkey! That crafty little fucker! Harry picked up the broken pieces of his glasses and tossed them on the nightstand. He picked up the other pair, relieved to see they were a near duplicate set. But still… he was naked.

Wondering what else Draco had in store for him, Harry checked all the drawers, cupboards, and closets in the suite. He only found a fluffy white bathrobe hanging in the bathroom, which was better than nothing. So he should just wait here? Where was he? And how long until Draco found him?

A knock at the door had him bounding across the suite’s sitting room. “Ron? What are you doing here?” Harry tucked the robe tighter around his body.

“I’m a man on a mission,” he said as he brushed past Harry, carrying a large box. “We’re right on schedule, but it’s a tight schedule so no time for dilly-dallying.” He set the box on the coffee table. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“I don’t - erm… okay…” Confused, Harry opened the box. A set of dress robes. Nice ones. “Did Draco pick these out?”

“I think it’s obvious _I_ didn’t pick them out. Get dressed. We’re in a hurry.”

Harry took the box to the bathroom to get dressed, rolling his eyes when he didn’t find any pants in the box. His birthday better not include a five minute fuck in some barely private location. At least the robes fit well.

“There aren’t any shoes,” Harry said as he came out of the bathroom.

“Ah, how could I forget?” Ron said. He reached into his pocket and a pair of boots grew to full size as he pulled them out. “Socks are tucked inside.”

“Where are we? Where’s Draco?”

“All in good time, mate,” Ron said with a cheery smile.

When Harry had his boots on, Ron led them out the door to the lifts. Harry asked, “How long has this been going on? And now that it’s going on, why is it still a secret?”

“We’ve got a bet on, on how long it takes you to figure it all out.”

“I don’t think I like my friends.” Harry closed his eyes to focus on his mark. As the lift went down, the mark slid from his ankles up to his chest. Draco was probably nearby.

“Well you can tell them all in person since everyone’s downstairs.” The lift door dinged open and Ron steered Harry to the Dahlia Ballroom, at least that’s what it looked like the sign said.

And indeed, it looked like all of Harry's closest friends were inside. Rows and rows of chairs. Flowers on everything. His eyes scoured the left side of the room, where his mark told him Draco would be, but there was no familiar head of blond hair. He must be in the room next door.

“This can’t be real…” Harry whispered as Ron pushed him to the front of the room, under a large arbor covered in some kind of vine with white flowers.

“Oh it’s real. You look great. Smile more.” Ron playfully tugged on Harry’s sleeve and stood just behind him. He nodded at Blaise coming to join them.

Harry followed the movement of his mark and so his eyes were focused on the door when it opened, showing Draco in a new set of dress robes standing next to Narcissa Malfoy. A string quartet began playing and they walked up the center aisle, Draco’s eyes never leaving Harry’s. He kissed his mother and sat her in an empty seat at the front, then joined Harry under the arbor.

“Found you,” Draco whispered, with a little wink.

Harry’s heart clamored in his chest, beating wildly against his soulmark. “I can’t believe you - you - How did you manage this?”

Draco shrugged. “I had help. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed. He took Draco’s hands. “I’m ready.”

A wonderful new beginning.


End file.
